


Love Languages

by GeekyRoleplayer



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: A fluff peice, Birthday Presents, Cullen is mentioned, Ellana and Dorian bond over their stubborn partners, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Talking about gifts gives insight into the love languages of the characters, established Pavellan relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 08:20:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26349988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeekyRoleplayer/pseuds/GeekyRoleplayer
Summary: Ellana Lavellan, a clanmate of the Inquisitior,  intrudes on his lazy afternoon of rest to ask for advice concerning the Commander of the Inquisition.Fortunately for her, circumstance dictates that she gets advice from someone else instead.
Relationships: Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford, Male Lavellan/Dorian Pavus
Kudos: 37





	Love Languages

It was well past noon and the Inquisitior had not once gotten out of bed. Sunlight filtered in from the doors of the balcony, as shades of green and gold splashed across the floor due to the stain glass in the windows. 

A winter chill was also present, a bit of cold air due to the mountains that the Inquisition called home. 

All and all, the day had been dull and uneventful. This was something that Dorian wouldn't complain about, however, as they hadn't taken a moment to properly rest since returning from the Temple of Mythal. 

The elf was sprawled out across the bed, back up, as he used the mage's chest as a pillow. Dorian didn't have the heart to move him and instead resigned to holding a book within one hand, while the other glided across the bare skin of the Inquisitor's back. Tracing out maps from freckle to freckle and scar to scar with nimble fingers. 

He kept his touch warm with a bit of magic in order to weave the heat into his lover's stiff muscles; a natural relaxant. 

Mahvir was a mess of long hair and exhaustion but he had barely stirred all morning. This was something rare, Dorian would note, but it was bound to happen eventually. You could only go so long before your body gives up on you- he didn't think the the old warrior would have been able to stay awake even if he'd wanted too. 

Only Josephine had came to seek him out but upon being told of his current state, practically comatose where he lay, she had dismissed his need for duty until further notice. Something she had been promptly thanked for by his Tevinter paramour, before she departed. Not another soul had dared to disturb them since. 

Until now. 

A sharp knocking resonated from the base of the staircase and it shocked Dorian away from his thoughts. His grey eyes, cool as ice, rose from his book and turned instead to the man nestled within the crook of his arm. He didn't want to wake Mahvir, but he couldn't ignore whoever had come to see the Inquisitior. 

He coughed to clear his throat, it was hoarse from having not spoken in hours. "Friend or Foe?" 

"Family!" A voice called back and he relaxes, closing his book and setting it aside before continuing to glide his other hand around the grooves of Mahvir's shoulder blades. The elf makes a small noise in his sleep, it sounds almost like a purr, and Dorian is fighting a fond smile as he watches Ellana turn the corner at the top of the stairs. 

"He's still asleep?" The woman asks, her voice a thoughtful whisper. 

Dorian inclines to the couch with a tilt of his head, waiting for her to take a seat before responding, "He wasn't feeling well last night and you know how he is. He won't listen to anyone, not even his own body." An annoyed sigh escapes him, "this is what he gets." 

Ellana arches an eyebrow at him. "You didn't spell him?" 

He lays his free hand upon his collarbone, unable to reach his heart in an otherwise dramatic display of mock hurt. "Dearest Ellana, such accusations wound me- but no, he's just gone and gotten himself tuckered out." 

"Ah." The light dulls in her violet eyes for a moment. "I was hoping to ask him for advice." 

"Perhaps I can help?" Dorian offers. The maker knew that he spent an unsavory amount of time with Mahvir, surely some of his sage like wisdom had rubbed off. 

Ellana hesitates, undoubtedly because she had come to speak with her father figure and not his boyfriend, who she knew to be a lot more spontaneous. 

"It's nothing serious." She finally says, biting her bottom lip in concentrating thought. "Cullen's birthday is coming up and he is refusing to talk about it." 

"The Commander, stubborn? I never would have guessed." 

"I want to get him something anyway, something that will mean a lot even in the years to come but he isn't a materialistic person." 

Dorian considers this for a moment, his touch now linging at the curve of Mahvir's hip, tracing along the sharp bone- his lover was scrawnier by the day- he thinks, but then he remembers a conversation he's had with Josephine about the upcoming birthday.

"Believe it or not, you're not the only one struggling, our darling Ambassador has tried all sorts of ideas but finally settled on some tasteless Fereldan desert. Leliana has gotten him a gold chess set and I have a copy of his favorite book from childhood tucked away in here somewhere. I believe Mahvir has sought out something to alleviate his headaches and is sending a care package to his sister and her children. " 

The woman on the couch seems to take this in for a moment, disappointment dancing across her expression. "You all seem to know exactly what he wants." 

"Not at all but we do know things that will make his day easier." 

Ellana groans and leans her head against the back of the couch. "You've all taken the best ideas." She complains, before tipping her head to the side to meet the mage's gaze. "What about you and Mahvir? What kind of gifts do you two give?" 

Dorian considers this silently for a moment. "Without getting unsavory; my gifts usually include giving him refuge. He is an anxious person by nature and lives with a lot of physical pain as well. I order potions for him, make sure he has a bath drawn each night and I force him to see a healer at least once a month." 

"Those seem more like chores than gifts." 

"One would think so, but the greatest gift I could give him right now is being there to help him up when he falls. Like Cullen, he isn't materialistic. Sometimes actions speak louder than words." 

Ellana furrows a brow, "So should I do something for Cullen? A gesture for how much I love him?"

"But with me," Dorian continues, "I find notes written in the margins of my books, or roses left by my desk in the library. My favorite brand of wine is always stocked in the cellar and I always have someone who listens to me just for the sake of listening." 

"So actual gifts?" The poor girl seemed more at a loss than she was when she first arrived. 

The mage can't help but chuckle. He was sure that he and Ellana shared the same amount of experience when it came to relationships, nothing serious prior to who they were currently with, and a few months ago he would have been just as put off as she. "The moral of this is, it all depends on the bond you two share. You are the only one who knows how Cullen gives his love and how you give yours. It's all very precious, if you think about it." 

"He gave me his good luck charm." She slowly says after a moment as if the beginning of an idea was finally forming within her mind. "He used to keep it with him everywhere he went but then he chose to give it to me." 

"The Dalish make each other tokens, do they not? You signify engagements with betrothal necklaces rather than rings?" 

"Yes!" She sits up in excitement, eyes wide and ears perked. "I can make him something similar, so he can have a charm from me." 

"A perfect choice." Dorian congratulates, offering the elf a smile as she springs off the piece of furniture and moves back to her feet. 

"Thank you Dorian." She says, "You're really good at this." 

"What is this?" 

"Being a friend." 

The man in bed, curled up among another body, blankets, and books, is at a loss for words. Straightforward sentiment had never been his strong suit. "Yes, well, don't go telling the others." He says. "I have a reputation to maintain." 

"I wouldn't dream of it." She responds, with plenty of her own mirth. 

"Go on would you, why wait around here all day when you have a Commander to charm?" 

Ellana took his dismissal as her cue to leave, she'd hit one of his nerves, but neither of them seemed to actually mind it.  
Her bit of farewell was a small wave, before she turns to the stairs and is gone a moment later. 

"She's right you know." A gruff voice breaks through the renewed silence and Dorian turns his gaze away from the staircase to the elf at his side. 

Dorian sushes his lover softly, turning on his side just enough to run his other hand through the length of his chestnut hair. "Go back to sleep, Amatus." 

"You go back to sleep." The inquisitior retorts, almost grumpily, but a moment later his breathing had slowed once again. 

Dorian sighs fondly, bends his head to leave a kiss on the other man's temple, and then returns to his book.


End file.
